


3 am phone calls

by Monalisasandmadhatters20



Series: 3 am phone calls [1]
Category: Rocketman (2019)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-06-29 06:11:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 14,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19824178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monalisasandmadhatters20/pseuds/Monalisasandmadhatters20
Summary: The day Elton reached out





	1. 3 am

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something I was thinking about. 2 broken men with a deep friendship, and maybe a deeper connection than either thought possible. Comments would be appreciated.

He came to all at once. As he blinked the last vestige of sleep from his eyes, he looked around trying to find the culprit of this rude awakening. The loud, unwavering ring of his landline chilled his bones. He gazed at his alarm clock and gulped. Over the many years of friendship with Elton John, he had come to associate 3 am phone calls with heart shattering news.

He scrubbed his face with his hand and gathered his strength. His heart was beating wildly. He hoped it was nothing important. A misdialed or prank call at worst. He felt his wife snake a thin arm around his waist, nuzzling his bare chest with her face. She probably thought she was giving him comfort or even strength... To Bernie Taupin though, it felt like he was an animal caged.

"Hello?" He was so proud of how steady he voice sounded, even with his stomach a steady flop. He heard the sound of the storm outside through the receiver. He heard heavy breathing, perhaps sobbing, but no words were spoken. He felt the stirrings of impatience taken precedence. "Hello? Is there anyone there?"

He heard a deep sigh, a familiar sigh. "Hey-ah Bern... Probably last person on earth you assume would call you here."

"Well, yeah actually. Usually my 3 in the morning phone calls are ABOUT you, never actually you. It is really you, right Reg? I'm not dreaming this?"

"Yeah... Yeah, it's me. And yeah, it's been a while."

Bernie sat up fully, ignoring Alexandra's indignant squawk at being unsettled, her command to _hang up on that asshole IMMEDIATELY, Bernie Taupin, or I swear_... and swung his legs over the side of his king bed. He heard the splash of a vehicle roaring through a puddle near by. Distantly he thought about how he hoped Reg didn't get soaked by it, and shook his head to clear his thoughts. "What's up, Reg? Are you out in this storm right now? What's going on?"

"Like I already said, Bernie, you were right. You are usually right of course, and it kills me to say it, let me assure you. But you were especially right about John. I am standing at a crossroads. I left John asleep in our room." He heard Elton let out a half laugh, half sob. "I drugged him, Bern. Did you know he doesn't use? And barely drinks? It's crazy how much anger he has for a normie. I've been trying to get clean, but he keeps shoving drug and drink at me. Keeps me more pliant, more fun, he says. I do better shows, I guess, because I just follow his lead. Did you see how crazy my costumes have gotten over the past year?"

"Yeah, yeah I have," Bernie murmurs in the silence.

"Anyways, after I accepted my whipping tonight for turning down a line, I really realized you were right all along. I don't need to deal with this... With him. Like you said, he works for me. I'm sorry for not listening, for pushing you away, and telling you to go back home. I didn't realize how much I needed you. And not just because you are a great lyricist. Because you are my brother. I crushed some pills and put it in his bedtime tea. When I was sure he was asleep, I dressed and left. And I'm babbling but goddammit, Bernie, now I don't know what to do..."

There was so much wrong in what Bernie heard he did not know how to begin. "Your whipping, Reg? Does he do that often?," he asked, wincing at how high his voice sounded. He saw Alexandra packing what looked like an overnight bag, and could not bring himself to care at the moment.

"Well, yeah, of course. I fuck up a lot, Bernie, you know that. John helps er... helped me deal with it. No big deal..."

"No big deal? Oh Reggie... Listen mate, yes it is a big deal. You said you left your house. Where are you? Let me come get you? Let me help you. You aren't alone."

Alexandra screeched wordlessly, and Bernie only rolled his eyes.

"No, no Bernie, things are finally going your way. I didn't call you to drag you from your perfect life. I heard you got married and went to rehab. You were always more sensible than me. I... I'll probably just go back home. I deserve whatever John gives me. And hey, if he kills me, you don't have to worry about 3 am phone calls again!"

He watched Alexandra storm from the bedroom, and heard the front door slam. He wondered briefly which vehicle she took with her, but could not bring himself to worry that she left. Things had been strained since his rehab stint. He felt his shoulders relax unconsciously, realizing now just how much stress she had him under.

"I am more than happy to take any 3 in the morning phone calls if it means you are safe and alive, Reggie. I need you to tell me where you are, and I will be coming to get you. I am going to help you, Elton. Please, just direct me where to go."

"I'm outside the troubadour. It seemed fitting to call you from here. You know, where it all began?"

"I'll be there in a half hour, mate. Please, just stay there. If you aren't there, I will come to your house and make a scene, and that's more your forte than mine."

"Yeah, alright. See you soon, Bernie."

As Bernie snatched the keys to his ford truck, he really hoped he didn't have to follow through and go to his house. He didn't think he could see John Reid without punching the pompous asshole in the nose.


	2. A place called home

It seemed fitting Honky Cat would be playing when he turned on his truck radio. He drove as fast as he dared in this sudden storm. Rain was not something he dealt with much in California, and he lost his confidence in driving in it over the years. But even he could admit it seemed fitting his Reggie couldn't have had this revelation on a clear afternoon. That would be too normal for his best friend.

As he drove down the final stretch, he saw a solitary figure sat upon a bench. He let out a whoop of excitement. He had not yet run like all those times before. He might actually be able to get somewhere with him this time. The smile on his face almost hurt.

He jumped out of his truck the second he could, grabbing his umbrella as an after thought. He rushed to Elton, and half carried him to the vehicle. He was much more hurt than he had let on, like always. After getting him settled in, he ran around the truck. It was only after he himself was settled he realized he really had no idea what to do. He had never gotten this far in years.

"Need a fag?," Bernie asked, offering an open pack of Marlboros to him. Elton took one silently, accepting the offered flame. "I picked it up in rehab. I understand now why you would smoke in high stress situations. It really does help."

"Bernie, now you're the one who is babbling," Elton said, a ghost of a smile reaching his lips. He gazed out the window, banging his temple twice with his fist. "I need a sleep, Bern."

"I know, mate. I don't live far. You can sleep as long as you need. The guest bed is already made up. You'll love the mattress. Same kind you have at yours. What did you always say about it? Like sleeping on a fucking cloud?"

Elton felt himself smiling despite his pain. "You hated those fucking beds. You slept on the floor to spite me."

Bernie chuckled. "Yeah, I did. I do. But I decorated the guest room with your tastes in mind. I always hoped deep down you would take a break and stay at the ranch. Consider it home. It's hard watching you run into the ground, Reg."

Elton stayed silent, but put his hand on Bernie's knee. He was touched. After all the shit he put Bernie through, he had wanted him to come 'home.' It was all he had ever wanted. Somewhere to call home.


	3. Someone saved my life tonight

"You should know before we arrive that my wife left tonight. She packed a good portion of her shit before I came to get you." He took a long drag of his cigarette, trying to decide what to say next. "Do not go blaming yourself, though, Reg. Things have been rough for a bit."

  
"Typical me though, upending your world without a thought. I'm sorry, mate, for what it's worth. You don't deserve this. Just drop me back at home so..."

"No!," Bernie interrupted as he stopped in the middle of his muddy driveway. "First off, I'm too fucking tired. Second, you are not going back to that sorry excuse for a human being as long I am still breathing. Alexandra and I have been on a rocky path for a while, since before I even went to rehab, and it's just gotten worse day by day. I'm surprised it has lasted as long as it has, to be honest."

Elton snorted. "So would you say by me calling, I might have been someone who saved YOUR life tonight?"

"You bloody tosser!"

They shared a laugh, Bernie amused and Elton on the edge of hysteria, but it felt good all the same. Bernie wrapped his arm around his shoulders, and kissed the top of his head. "Thank you for calling me, Reg. I won't let you down, mate. Everything is going to get better, I promise you."

"God help me, Bernie, but I can't help but believe you."

*******************

It was after seven in the morning before Bernie finally collapsed on his bed. Getting Reg in the house, bathed, his bruises and gaping wounds (both self-inflicted and 'gifted') tended to, and then finding clothes to fit from his own chest had taken much longer than even he expected. He punched his pillow. His hatred for John Fucking Reid had grown exponentially this morning.

He was glad Reg was so exhausted he fell asleep without any aid. He did not keep anything in the ranch anymore. It would be too easy, his sponsor had said, to fall right back into the drink and drug if it was nearby. After the events of the past few hours, though, he wished he had not listened and kept something...

He lay upon his back, trying to control his breathing. He had already rang up his closest neighbor and due to the emergency he was tending to both the horses and chickens. He was too overwhelmed to sleep, it seemed. Each time he closed his eyes he saw the black and blues and reds that adorned his brother's skin. He heard the half-hearted excuses for that monster in his head. He had wanted to rage, but controlled himself around Reg. It would only hinder any progress. He held his firm control until he closed his own bedroom door, and goddammit all if he could now.

The phone rang beside him. He snatched the receiver quickly, hoping it did not wake Reg. "What?, he snapped, not wanting to deal with any nonsense. It would only be one of two people, and neither did he wish to speak to.

"He's there, then?," Alexandra huffed.

"Of course he's here! He had no where else to go. He's broken and hurting, and if you are going to come around here you best be civil or so help me God..."

"So that's that then? It's always all about him. I'm your wife. Do I not matter?"

"You have been my wife on paper only for over two years, Alexandra. You and I both know that." Bernie sighed, scrubbing his eyes with his hand, suddenly worn. "Look, it's been a long night. I am tired. I really cannot do this right now. I am hanging up. Don't call or come back until at least noon."

_She really needs to learn to use words and not just screech all the goddamn time she doesn't get her way_ , Bernie thought as he hung up the call. He pulled his comforter over his head and closed his eyes, pretending not to notice the tears that streaked down his own cheeks. He surrendered to sleep when it finally came gladly.


	4. Breakfast Talks

Bernie placed the plate of toast beside the rest of the full english breakfast he prepared for them both. He settled his mum's old tea set she left behind upon the large platter as he absentmindedly hummed 'streets of Laredo.' Nodding to himself he made his way up the stairs to the bedrooms. He thought he heard Reg up and about not too long ago, and he was thankful.

He had not been this bored since rehab.

Bernie entered the room with a smile. Reg sat upon the recliner looking out the bay window and sipping slowly out of a medium-sized flask. Bernie wondered where he had found it. He did not recall anything in Reg's pockets from the night before when he got him settled.

"Good morning, you miserable bastard! I brought up some breakfast. Hope you're hungry because I think I may have channeled my mum and over did it," he said, placing the tray on the end table.

Elton snorted when he lay eyes upon the full tray. "May have? Bernie, darling, I haven't seen that much food at one time meant for me since I was the fat little lad from Pinner."

Bernie shrugged, running his fingers through his hair. "At least I'm hungry."

"You know, my mother made this almost every morning for us until she could no longer buy my shorts without special order. The shame she felt..." Elton shuddered, playfully, then snatched a piece of toast.

Bernie laughed loudly. "I was always a tall beanpole. My mum had to tailor mine herself. Always too long or too short they were. I was so thankful when I was deemed old enough for long pants!"

  
"How is your mum? It's been ages since we spoke of her."

The _it's been ages since we spoke at all_ was left unsaid, and for that Bernie was thankful. 

"She's brill, really. She lives nearby. I moved her to the states after my da' passed."

"Oh no, Bernie. I fucked up again. My condolences. I never heard."

"I called Reid during the European leg of your tour. I think you were in Sweden? Anyhow, I gave the details of the funeral. When you didn't come I just thought you weren't ready to forgive me yet."

Elton shook his head violently. "He never told me, Bernie, you have to believe me. I wonder what else he's kept from me..."

Bernie watched him take a long gulp from his flask, only to throw it against the wall when he found it empty.

"Goddammit!!," he yelled. He took a steadying breath, and banged his fist on his temple like he always did when trying to clear his thoughts. "I only knew the bit I did about you from Ray," he continued miserably. "I ran into him in Pinner when I was visiting with my mum. He made sure I knew I was a right idiot for cutting you out, of course."

"You're here now, Reg. And for that I am thankful."

They ate in companionable silence. _Well, I'm eating_ , Bernie thought, watching Reg push his eggs around his plate. _No wonder he can almost fit my clothes._

Elton cleared his throat. "I... I was thinking last night... You know, while I was waiting for you to get me, that it might be time to get help. Real help. I got away from my house. Maybe this time I could be strong enough to get away from the drink and drug too. When my body starts going through withdrawal it is not going to be pretty, Bern, and I don't think this is the place to do it."

Bernie put down his fork. "I... I could take you where I went. If you want that is! I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to do, Reg. I will do anything to help you live happily. I hope you know that."

  
"Even call me Elton?," he asked in a small voice. "I haven't been Reggie in a long time. I mean, I'm legally Elton, you know? Even my mum calls me Elton now. I hate that name. I hate those memories..."

A sigh escaped before Bernie could stop it. "I can try, Reg-Elton. You will always be my Reggie, though. I will always be the person you can be your full self with. But I suppose I'll try to get to calling you Elton. I didn't know it affected you badly."

The blinding smile was thanks enough.

*************************************

He closed the bedroom door softly, carefully balancing the dirty plates on the platter in one hand. He was still smiling, happy with how easy their conversation had flowed. Happy that Elton was able to speak more freely with him than he had over the span of their friendship. He was also happy Elton allowed himself to be helped to bed. He needed more sleep. He seemed to running only on fumes.

The phone rang. Bernie sighed, looking at the clock above the stove. At least it's after one, he thought, setting the platter on the counter. He still did not want to deal with Alexandra, but at least he felt better equipped to do so now.

He no sooner picked up the receiver when he heard a panicked voice speaking. "... On his way. He's on his way there now, goddammit. Take him and get away from there NOW, Bernie."

"Natasha?," he mumbled dumbly, surprised to hear the shrill voice of Elton's long time maid.

"Yes! Mr. Reid just left. He is angry and talking about bringing Mr. John up on charges for drugging him. He was talking about giving himself bruises if Mr. John did not come easily, so he could say Mr. John also hurt him. He is looking to ruin him. Take him and leave your house. It is not safe for either of you to dally."

And then silence. Bernie shook his head to clear it before springing into action. He had a half hour at most to get them out. He promised Elton he would protect him. He just did not expect it to be needed so soon.


	5. Realizations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just a filler chapter, more to come.

"I still don't understand."

  
Bernie growled in frustration, banging his head on the steering wheel. The afternoon traffic was bothersome enough without having to try to explain the basics of his tentative plan... Again.

He could not help but wonder if Elton was being obtuse on purpose...

Bernie gazed at his friend, feeling his features soften. Elton was hunched over in the passenger seat, the bottle of gin bought an hour earlier already half gone. Reid had held the reigns to Elton's life for so long. Elton did not understand why Bernie would not, COULD not, just drop him back at his house. He did not understand why Bernie was uprooting his own life yet again, just for him.

Bernie placed his hand on Elton's thigh and squeezed firmly. "You don't see it, Re-Elton, but you are worth it. I promise one day you will see just how much I care about you. And one day you will care just as much as about yourself."

Elton snorted, banging his head on the headrest. "Just wake me when we get there, where ever we get to. My head hurts." He took a long pull of the bottle before settling it at his feet with a faint sniffle. Bernie knew he was crying, but said nothing. What could he say that he hadn't already? 

"Sure, o'course," Bernie said, returning his gaze to the traffic spread before him. He wiped the tears from his own eyes. He had the faint stirrings of a plan. He just hoped Elton would follow the course. So far he had been agreeable enough, at least after Bernie gave in and bought the damn liquor.

 _Get to the airport, fly to London, meet with Ray, fire Reid._ Maybe not exactly in that order. Something told him, though, that it would not be as easy as it sounded in his head.

*****************************

"So we are going back to Pinner? Bernie, how is that at all even almost a good idea?," Elton almost whined. "What? Am I running back to my mummy or something? Bloody hell..." 

Bernie rolled his eyes. He would never admit it to anyone other than himself, but Elton was truly adorable.

"London. Not quite Pinner. And I'm not too sure, really." He watched people passing by them, finding it amusing in Bernie's plain clothes Elton was unrecognizable. He wondered what people could think about themselves if they realized later they were sitting next to to THE Rock Legend. "But it's the first thing that came to mind. Ray has told me time and time again that I am more than welcome to visit, and he asks after you often. He thinks as I do. If something doesn't give you are going to die, Reg, and Reid is everything to do it."

"Don't... Just don't," Elton said tiredly. "I'm going with the flow right now, but don't think I won't just walk away and go back home if you piss me off. You don't understand me, or him, or what we have... Er had..."

"Elton, if you were happy, you wouldn't have called me last night." _Was it really just last night_ , Bernie thought, rubbing his forehead. "Even high off your arse you still felt things weren't right. Please don't lie to yourself, and definitely don't lie to me."

"I need a fucking drink..."

"O' course you do, mate... Soon we will be on the plane and you can have it then." 

_Not like you didn't already have a handle of gin already today_. He wondered if he ever drank that much and still craved more. He liked to forget about that time in his life. Being around Elton though brought it all to the forefront of his mind. 

He put his arm around Elton, bringing his head to rest on Bernie's shoulder. "Just close your eyes again, mate. I'll wake you when it's time to board."

And if he felt that his shoulder, and maybe the rest of his body, was meant for Elton, he would never admit to it, not even to himself.


	6. The truth will always come out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little something I was thinking about. 2 broken men with a deep friendship, and maybe a deeper connection than either thought possible. Comments would be appreciated.

They made it. Somehow they bloody made it. Bernie walked as steadily as he could, carrying almost the full weight of a stumbling Elton. His wounds were aggravated, and he had stated on the connecting flight that he thought he had some broken ribs.

He was quite sincere in his apology for leaving out the beating he had received with Reid's steel toe boots, of course.

Bernie was frustrated with himself. Since the day they met Elton had never been completely truthful with him. He always downplayed all situations. Not that he himself was much better in that regard, of course. But he should have known Elton had downplayed his injuries. He should have sought medical attention first off, rather than running away from both their relationships.

 _What the hell am I really doing_ , he thought. _How am I actually doing anything good?_

Seeing Ray standing at baggage claim almost caused Bernie to collapse in relief.

"There's Ray, mate. Look, he has a bench near him and everything. We will sit you down and get you cleaned up. Almost there, Reggie. Almost there. Just stay with me."  
Bernie continued to speak softly, feeling his heart break with every pained moan. He himself was feeling quite weak. He felt pathetic.

"Bernie! Elton! What the bloody fuck did I sign up for here, then," Ray asked, taking Elton's weight in his arms.

"Just... Sit him down there for a mom'. Need to... catch my breath."

Ray gently settled Elton on the bench, Bernie falling beside him. He put his head in hands, trying to pull himself together. He needed strength, and he needed it now. Everything was hitting him all directions.

He vaguely heard Ray ringing the emergency services. He wanted to tell him to hang up. It would now be public record that Elton Fucking John was in London. It would be easier now for Reid to find him. But he couldn't form any words. He accepted the bottle of water handed to him with (he hoped) a murmured thanks, wishing not for the first time it was something much stronger.

"The medics are on their way, Bernie, for both of you."

"What? Why? I'm fine," Bernie slurred, his words seeped in confusion.

Ray only raised an eyebrow, nodding to him. "Your right shoulder is out of it's bloody socket, mate. How you don't feel it astounds me..."

"Right. O'course," Bernie said, closing his eyes. He took a deep breath, trusting Ray to watch the crowd. He needed a sleep.

  
It was only when Ray stood, waving towards the medics that Bernie felt himself relax. _Ouch_ , he thought, gazing down at his shoulder. _Mother fucker was bloody right_ , was his last coherent thought before the world faded to black.

*******************

The loud beeps penetrated his brain slowly. He wished Alexandra would turn the bloody alarm off. He felt too weak to even lift his arms. He tried to remember what in the hell happened... if he got kicked by one of his horses or something.

The events of the past day and a half crashed into his mind at once. He opened his eyes quickly, seeing the bland white walls for the first time. "Reggie!," he yelled, surprised at how weak even his sounded sounded. He wondered if it always sounded like that.

"Is fine. Better than you even. He is a couple of doors down, no doubt dead to the world thanks to a fantastic drug cocktail," Ray said, flipping the page of his magazine with irritation. "You on the other hand, my friend, should still be asleep. The medic said your body has been through hell. Signs of long term abuse with some self-mutilation thrown in as well." Ray threw the magazine down on the table. "i mean, the fuck, mate? Did you really think you could help Elton when you yourself are trying to kill yourself in a different way?"

"I... I don't..."

"No, you don't get to deny it, Bernie. I swear if you try to do so I will walk out that door, fuck the both of you."

Bernie flinched. Everyone wanted to leave him lately, it seemed. Even Reg.

"I know it's hard to admit it. Elton doesn't know, and I will not tell him," Ray said, softening his voice. "You both have always been a right pair. Fate brought you together in my office that day. You need each other in ways neither of you will admit. But seriously? Bernie, you need to think about what you are going to do to help yourself. It can't always be about Elton."

"I don't know any other way...," Bernie said. "My... my wife. We have been having problems. She says my life revolves around Reg. That I care more about him than her. I met her not too long after I left the tour. We got married quickly. I went to rehab because she asked me to. But when I got out, I just wanted to see Reg and make sure he was okay, and maybe talk him into getting help. The fights... they became bloody awful. I quit the drink and the drug, and didn't have another outlet. She called me pathetic. I knew I was, of course. What grown man takes a knife to himself, you know?" He sighed, fighting the urge to fidget. "But you're right. Here I am trying to get Reg to see sense and I am pretty much living his life."

"I didn't have much time but I set you up with rooms in my flat. It's not much, but it will get you by. I talked to Dick and we are both meeting with our lawyers tomorrow to start the process of axing Reid and getting Elton back on our label. I am not sure it is the best thing to do with either of your health's as of now, but it is better to begin process I am assured." Ray got to his feet. "I'm going to check in on Elton. You get some more rest. We'll figure this out."

_That's what I promised Reg, and look how it's gotten so far?_


	7. Everything's the same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last filler chapter before some action, I promise.
> 
> Thanks for the kudos!

The day of his discharge could not happen soon enough. As 'luck' would have it, Reg had been released a couple of days prior. The press had gotten wind of his return to London as Bernie had feared. After giving him a short scolding, which Bernie found no fault with, Elton was brought to Ray's flat to get settled. He rang often enough though during those days to check in that Bernie was known to leave his room phone off the cradle for hours at a time, though.

He followed Ray to the waiting car, his shoulder still in a plain sling. It would need to stay in the sling until he got with a primary doctor.

Considering his primary doctor was in the states it could take a while to work it out.. 

He felt a smile break across his face when he saw his Reg through the car window, a god-awful cowboy hat and a pair of bedazzled sunglasses on his head. Settling in next to him, he felt his heart soar. He didn't even have a bottle of liquor with him!

"Heya, mate," Bernie said, wrapping his good arm around his shoulders. "So good to see you looking better."

"You too, Bernie, darling. Though, to be honest, you look like shite. How are you holding up?"

Bernie rolled his eyes. "Love you too, Reg..."

Bernie thought hard on his response. He did not want to lie, but he also did not want to any added stress to his friend. "I AM feeling better. Though that's not saying much as I didn't feel badly to begin with." Elton scoffed. "No, I really didn't. I think I just kept pushing it away and pushing it away and didn't realize when my body had finally had my fill."

"You are such a dumb-arse."

"Says the man in pink bejeweled sunglasses..."

"Look, just because you wouldn't know fashion if it bit you on the bum gives you no right to question the God...," Elton began indignantly. "Hey!"

Bernie fell forward, laughing harder than he had in so long. _Same ol' dramatics..._ He felt better. Lighter. He accepted the offered cigarette from Elton, and ignored Ray's wink at their exchange.

  
_My best friend, my brother, the one who needs help. One thing at a time_ , Bernie chanted to himself silently.

"So what is the plan?," Bernie asked, after taking a long pull of his cigarette.

"Going to get some take-out and get you settled in. Ray made it seem like he had some tiny flat, Bernie. I mean, it's no LA house, but it is rather spacious."

Elton lit his own smoke, turning his gaze to the window. "We are sharing a bedroom, though. He only has had time to clear one room for us. I told him it was more than enough and how grateful we are though, darling, so no need to fret."

 _No time, my arse_ , Bernie grumbled to himself, glaring at the smirking man. "Good good. Going to be like old times, eh, Reg."

"At least it's a bigger bed this time."

"Too right."

They lapsed into silence, Bernie lost in his thoughts. It had been years since he had been in London, and yet everything looked the same: The identical complexes, the grey skies, the children playing in the street and the neighborhood ladies meeting up for their daily gossip. And now he and Reg would be sharing a room, just like a decade ago when they were struggling to finally get their first big hit. It seemed almost like they never left. Anxiety began to pool in his stomach.

He suddenly felt much older than his 30 years.

Elton leaned on Bernie, the lack of substances in his body causing heavy shakes, and said, "thanks for everything, Bern. I'm trying to be well."

And that was when he knew he would do this without complaining. It was for his Reggie. Everything was always for his Reggie.


	8. Nightmares

He woke in a cold sweat, his whole body shuddering. The nightmare  _ memory _ was so real. He looked down at Reggie to ensure his friend was still asleep. His face looked so much younger in sleep, almost angelic.  _ Kissible… _

Bernie shook his head, slowly disentangling himself from the bedding. He picked up his pain pills and water glass, and padded quietly to the sliding sliding glass door. He stepped out onto the balcony. His feet were bare and the thin pajama set he wore did nothing to fend off the chill. 

He sat in one the mismatched chairs ( _ TARTAN, _ Reg had exclaimed, seemingly properly horrified. He and Ray had laughed heartily, and Reg did not speak to either of them for hours. They spent most of their life as bachelors. What did they know of fashionable decor?)

He lit a cigarette, trying to force away the dream  _ memory  _ from his mind. Even when on the other side of the ocean, Alexandra sure had a way to cause him pain. He opened his bottle, and poured some in his hand. Downing five of them quickly, he then brought the lit end to his wrist.  _ Burn. Pain. Worthless. Pathetic. _

“Pence for your thoughts?”

Bernie jumped, hissing in pain as the sudden movement put out his cigarette. He hadn't meant for that. Ray stood against the doorway, his arms folded across his jumper. “Elton’s still asleep, no worries,” he said, closing the door gently when he saw the concern in Bernie’s eyes. “And you are not. Again.”

“Obviously,” Bernie murmured.

Ray sat in the chair next to him, lighting his own smoke. “I have an alarm that sounds in my room with this door. I tried to use this as the master bedroom, but I couldn’t get over sleeping so near the door. It would be foolish of me to not have any security, though, of course.”

“Foolish, yes.”

“What’s up mate? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Just a nightmare.”  _ Memory _ . “I was only going to have a smoke then try to rest some more. I didn’t want to wake Elton with my old skeletons.”

“Take more pills then you should and burn yourself, too. All in the life, though, eh, mate?”

Bernie did not respond. How could he? Ray spoke the truth.

“You didn’t eat your food last night either.”

Bernie shifted, suddenly very uncomfortable, and rethinking his decision of being here. “Help Reggie. Not me, Ray. I’m fine.”

Ray only hummed. “Let’s get you back to bed, Bernie. You will catch your death of cold out here and the pills will hit you hard and fast with nothing in your system.” He gave Bernie his hand. “But you knew that already, of course.”

Bernie did not respond, only allowed himself to be helped to bed. He was asleep in seconds.

*********************

“Ray, darling, do you know why Bernie is still asleep? It’s half past 11. He is always such an early riser,” Elton fretted, entering the kitchen. He was worrying his bottom lip, his hands fisted in the pockets of his dressing gown. 

“I’m sure his body is adjusting to his pain pills. He will be up shortly, mate. No worries.” Ray put a plate of eggs and kippers in front of him. “Eat up, though, we have a meeting scheduled shortly. We can only be ‘fashionably’ late, not incredibly late, Elton.”

“Right, of course. Wouldn’t dream of being anything other. But, uh, who are we meeting with? Did you already tell me?”

Ray laughed. “Yes, Elton. I have. Twice. We are meeting with our lawyer’s to try to see if there is any clause we can use to pull out of your contract with John. Bernie suggested it.”

Elton nodded. “I miss him, Ray.”

“I know. And you will for a long while.”

“He wasn’t always terrible...”

Ray only hummed. He had known John Reid far longer than Elton had. He had always been terrible. He sipped at his tea, watching Elton push his food around his plate. He had always regretted keeping John’s past from Elton. By the time he thought to discuss it, he was not only ignored, but told he was jealous of John and his success. Ray had shrugged off, then. Not his problem.

_ Though if I had known I would have these two at my flat years later, broken perhaps beyond repair, I would have tried harder _ .

“Right, I’ll go get Bernie up. If you don’t think you can actually eat, just hit the shower. We have less than an hour, mate.”

“Alright.”

Ray walked the short distance to the guest bedroom and into through the open door. Bernie was curled in the fetal position, shaking. “Mate? Hey mate, time to get up. We have that meeting today, mate,” he said softly. He heard Bernie groan. “Yes, time to get up.”

Bernie rolled over, looking at him with such anguish in his eyes Ray took a step back. “I don’t know if I can, Ray,” he pushed down a sob. “But I know I have to. Reg needs me to be there. But I don’t know if I can.”

Ray closed the door and locked it, glad Elton was already in the shower. “I stand by what I said in the hospital. You can’t help Elton if you are not able to help yourself. What do we need to do?,” he asked gently, knowing how difficult it was for Bernie to admit this. “I don’t want to leave you here alone either, not in this mind. I can reschedule the meeting, that’s not an issue. But I also don’t want to put this off too long. John will come back, and he will manipulate Elton to his advantage.”

“No, we can’t put this off. I… I’ll get through today. I’ll be okay.” He tried to sit up, he tried to move, but his body felt like rubber. “Little help?”

Ray helped him sit up, propping pillows behind his back. “I don’t think you are, or will be today, mate. I’ll help you get dressed and we will make this meeting as short as possible. I’ll help keep Elton off your back, but you have to promise me to rest. You need to come first this time, Bernie. I’ll take care of Elton for now.”

Bernie nodded, allowing himself to be tended to with a frown. He could not remember the last time he truly put himself first. Even going to rehab was Alexandra’s choice. It might have saved his life, but it wasn’t his choice. He would gladly have died if it meant everyone would be happier. 

_ Maybe I’ll get a book or five, _ he thought, as Ray helped slip a shirt over his head _. Books are good and sometimes helpful. _


	9. We have to stop meeting like this...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here is the action I promised. John returns. Also a lot of conversation in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who have read my fic! I have never really wrote fanfiction before, and certainly would never have thought about posting any anywhere. I have watched Rocketman numerous times, and when I found the fandom, I saw how small the selection of stories to choose from were. I never expected people to actually read what I wrote, never mind get kudos or comments. I just wanted to continue the fun I have had watching the film, and the history of my idol Elton John. Thanks for continuing on this journey with me. I have a plot in mind, even if it doesn't always seem like it.

“You sure y’alright?”

Bernie sighed, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. He loved Reg more than anything, but God, if he didn’t stop with asking over him he was going to deck him and feel no remorse. 

He could not keep the exasperation out of his voice when he finally did answer. “Yes, Elton, I’m fine. Dandy. Already told you not to fret over me. You got enough going on, mate.”

Elton sighed, slumping further in his seat. He knew Bernie was keeping things from him. He could not help but feel like a child. He pushed the rim of his hat down, suddenly feeling self-conscious, even with his trademark wide sunglasses set upon his nose. He folded his arms across his chest sullenly. “You know you can talk to me, Bernie. I know I don’t always seem like it, but I really do care about more than just myself,” he sulked.

Bernie put his hand his Elton’s knee with hopes of placating him. “I know you do mate. I wouldn’t have given so much of myself to helping you over the years if I didn’t think you would do the same. I just need some… time.”

They lifted their gazes to the opening door with expectant faces. They had been waiting in the posh waiting room for over an hour. Ray had said his part of the meeting may take a bit longer than theirs. Expecting Ray, Elton gasped, and Bernie cursed. John Reid had found them instead.

Bernie got to his feet, motioning for Elton to stay down. He had seen Elton flinch at the sight of his ex-lover, and it made his blood boil. He walked towards him, feeling hatred like he had never felt before. He could not believe he was there. A waking nightmare. 

“You have a lot of nerve coming here after what you’ve done.”

John had the audacity to laugh. Bernie fought the urge to punch him. _How dare he..._

“After what I’VE done? You are the one who kidnapped Elton after he DRUGGED me and brought him halfway across the world. Or perhaps you planned it together, hoping to deal me out of the equation. I could have charges brought up against you both, as you are well aware, but especially Elton. And where would his career go then?”

“There are already charges filed against you, John,” Ray said from the doorway as Bernie said “Kidnapped? The fuck you on about?”

“It would be best if you leave, John,” Ray continued. “This will not end well if you don’t.”

“And Ray Williams, pleasure to see you,” John sneered, giving a mocking bow. “And what hand do you have in this mess, eh? Should have known you were involved. I always thought you and Bernie were more than friends. Elton is quite insatiable. I would have asked you to join us if I had known you for certain you had such rotten taste.”

Ray shook his head. “Still the jealous twat, I see. Glad to see some things never change.” He looked at the female secretary who watched the byplay with wide eyes. “Ring the police, love.”

“No!,” Elton shouted, getting to his feet.

“Reg, you can’t…”

“Elton, come on mate…”

Elton shook his head harshly, his breathing heavy. “No, no. Shut up! Don’t call the police. Let me talk to him for a mom’. Just a moment… Please?”

Bernie felt his heart break as Ray led him back to his chair. He watched Reg speak to John urgently, in too quiet tones to hear. He put his head in his good hand and groaned. It was over now. Reg would get on a plane with John and go back to his destructive behaviours. He couldn’t protect him. He came to the harsh realization that he probably never could.

“Hey, Bernie, come on. Don’t go down that path. Elton is looking at you right now. I see the indecision on his face. Keep the hope alive, mate. He knows things aren’t good with you right now.” 

Bernie jerked his head up at the sound of a fist hitting cartilage. He was on his feet before he knew what was happening. Reg was on the floor, blood gushing from his nose, his sunglasses in pieces in front of him, and the prick was standing above him with a disgusted expression. 

He felt Ray grab him from behind, yet he was screaming obscenities along with him. He felt his pain rear its ugly head yet again, Ray accidentally holding much too tight. He had never been gladder for the arrival of the police.

And then his world went back... again.

  
  
  


*********************

Bernie opened his eyes slowly, groaning at the white walls and the hospital equipment around him and attached to him. He glared at Ray who sat with a serene smile on his face, looking at an issue of Rolling Stone with Reg on the front. 

“We have got to stop meeting like this.”

Ray chuckled, turning the page of the magazine. “Yes, I quite agree.” 

Bernie waited for Ray to speak. Surely there would be news to be told him. His glare only grew more heated at the ongoing silence. “Well, you tosser… Are you going to speak?”

“Whatever do you mean?,” Ray asked, feigned confusion crossing his face.

“Stupid has never worked for you, mate…”

“I wanted to wait until you were better…,” Ray muttered, closing the magazine. “John was taken for assault, thank the Gods. Elton is at his mom’s for a few days. And you are here.” Ray shrugged. “Only been a few hours this time at least.”

“You dropped Reggie off at Sheila’s? Really?”

“I told you I’d take care of him until you could.”

“I don’t know if taking him to Sheila’s is really taking care of him, mate.”

“Would you rather him here pacing and fretting? He is fit to be tied, let me tell you.”

“Well, no.”

“So here we are then.”

“Yes… Here we are.”

Bernie shut his eyes. John in lock up was a success. It gave him time to figure out the next chapter without the worry breathing down his neck. Being in the hospital (again) was a setback, but one that could be worked through. Reg at his mother’s could be a setback, or it could be a success. For all her faults, Sheila cared for Reg in her own way. More than his father at least.

“You’re thinking too hard. Bloody hell, just get some rest.”

Bernie smiled slightly, and for once just listened.

  



	10. Feelings best forgotten

He stood on the familiar stoop. The familiar azaleas were blooming well even with the cold snap they were experiencing in Pinner. _Sheila always had a green thumb to match her black heart,_ Bernie thought. The milk delivery had arrived, and still sat within the box on the stoop. He was surprised neither Sheila nor Fred had brought it in yet. 

_It’s just gone 9 am on a Saturday, idiot_ , Bernie thought, looking down at his simple leather watch. The memory of the day Reg had bought him a diamond watch and brought it home to him flitted across his mind. _Here. When this was our home. He a diamond earring, and a watch for me,_ he thought, scuffing the toe on his cowboy boot on the cement. He had worn it twice, and pawned it, along with anything else of value he had been given by Reg, not too long after he left him the first time for drug money. _What a life we have led, and we aren’t even close to 40 yet..._

He raised his fist and knocked hard on the door before he could run away. He felt like he was choking again. The memories were hard to work through at the best of times. _And this is not a ‘best of times’._

The doctors had said he had some kind of anxiety disorder, and major depressive disorder, near the end of this stay. Bernie had merely rolled his eyes, accepting the paperwork with grace he did not know he possessed. They had given him recommendations for psych doctors, rehab centers, and hospitals. He had ripped up the page on his way out the door, much to Ray’s dismay.

“As I live and breathe… Bernie Taupin, come in, son, come in!”

Bernie shook his head. He had been lost in his memories again. He nodded at Fred, entering the house at his gesture. “Good morning, Sir,” he said once in the hallway and broken from his memories.

“I thought I broke that of you years ago, son. Just Fred. Sir was my father.” Fred bent down to pick up the milk before closing the door quietly.

Bernie smiled nervously. “Right-o. Fred it is. My apologies.” He had to take a deep breath before his oxygen was cut off. He wished he could figure out who was cutting it off all the time and deck them too. “It has been a long time.”

“That it has. Come to the parlor. Was about to sit and have some tea before breakfast. Or do you prefer coffee now as they do in America?”

“Coffee would be brill’, Si-Fred. Black no sugar please.”

Bernie allowed himself to be led to the living area, and sat heavily on the couch. He stared at the piano where ‘your song’ was created with a heavy heart. He tried to control his breathing. ‘Your song’ was what skyrocketed Reg, and in turn himself, to celebrity. And in turn caused so much heartache.

“Elton played his nan a little concert last night,” Fred said, almost proudly. “She was in tears at the end. She has never been to one of his shows. Much too late for her to be up, of course. It has been so grand having him home if only for a few days.”

“Right,” he said, accepting his coffee. He took a sip, the burn feeling wonderful on his tongue. He didn’t expect such a warm welcome for either of them. “Where is Mrs… Umm… I mean Sheila.”

“She’s still resting. As is Elton. They had a nice talk last night. Lasted through most of the night, it did… Both went to bed with tears of joy.”

“I see,” Bernie said. 

He looked around the room. He stared at the pictures of Reg through the years on display. He could not help the astonishment he felt. He took another sip of his coffee knowing it was still much too hot to be palatable, but not knowing what else to do.

He looked towards the doorway when he heard Ivy speak. “Breakfast is ready, Freddie. Can you go wake… Bernie?”

“Good morning, Nan Ivy,” Bernie said, an honest smile stretching his face. He had missed her more than he thought.

He accepted her kisses with a grace he did not think he still had. He had always liked Ivy. She was the only one in the family in Reg’s corner at the worst of times. She was always much more vocal in her affections than Fred, whom Bernie also knew cared for Reg deeply.

“I wondered who the coffee was for! It is wonderful to see you, dear! First Reggie, and now you. My darling boys! I could die today a happy lady!”

“Well, let’s not die today, Nan Ivy,” Bernie chuckled, as Ivy did as well.

“Well, come, come. I made Reg’s favorite this morning, and I know you love it too. You’ll have to tell all that has been happening with you. I read the papers of course, but much of it seemed like inane gossip.”

Fred chuckled as he watched Bernie get led to the kitchen like a small child. He whistled as he walked to the stairs. _Life was good_.

*************

“Bernie! You’re here!” 

“Hmph,” Bernie grunted, as Reggie just about jumped in his lap in his excitement, his arms around his neck in what could only be construed as a death grip. “Yes, yes. I’m here.”

“T’was so worried when they took you on the stretcher. We did the meeting without you, which was not how it should be done!” Elton shook his head irritably. “Ray said you’d be fine, o’course. You always are fine. But still… Decidedly UN-brilliant.”

Bernie could smell the rancid alcohol and vomit on his breath, but let it go. He could not fault Elton for taking comfort in his vices in his worry. It would have been hard on anyone, these past few days. Seeing John, getting pummeled, Bernie fainting and then taken away to the hospital, having to handle the legalise without him, being dropped at his childhood (and adulthood) nightmare… It would be enough for anyone to backslide.

“I know, Reg. But I’m alright now. Just have to rest more until I get my clean bill of health. How are you doing? You been eating?”

Elton laughed. “Much too much! Nan keeps filling my plate. I must have gained a stone by now.”

“Doubtful,” Sheila said, entering the kitchen. She tied her flowery dressing gown tight, then leaned over to kiss Bernie on the cheek. “He’s been having meetings with Ralph on the porcelain throne daily.”

“Mum, really?,” Elton said, taking his seat next to Bernie, his face flush with embarrassment. In only his briefs and terry cloth dressing gown, it could have been _that morning_ all over again, when it all began. Bernie took another sip of his coffee, sad to find it was finally cool enough to drink. He remembered again why he hated this flat.

Sheila only shrugged. “Why lie, darling? Bernie is your best friend, one of the few who can actually stand to be around you. You don’t want to lose him by telling silly little lies.”

Bernie closed his eyes, remembering Fred’s words. _They had a good talk… Lasted through the night, it did… Both went to bed with tears of joy..._ That did not seem possible with the animosity rolling off Sheila in waves. She was always _so_ fond of John, though. If she had to choose between her son, and John, she would have always chosen John. He knew Reg being here was a bad idea. 

He saw how tense Reg was, sitting hunched in his seat. “We will be leaving after breakfast,” Bernie said, decisively. He leaned over and whispered in Reggie’s ear. “And it’s okay, mate. No worries. When have I ever blamed you, or left you because of something YOU did for anything.”

"It was always John, wasn't it?," Reg said, just as quietly. "He always tried to keep us apart. Usually it worked too. "

He smiled when he saw Reg sit up straighter, taking the fork in his hand. Bernie followed suit. If he was to ensure Reggie were to eat, he would need to as well. The food tasted like ash on his tongue, but he endured. 

The hushed scolding held by Fred to Sheila of course helped quite a bit.


	11. One step, two step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their friendship is stronger, their feelings grow deeper, and Alexandra reenters the picture to ruin their lives.

Bernie sat atop the twin bed, rubbing his hand over the fluffy comforter. He was amazed that at one time he and Reg fit somewhat comfortably in this room. The mornings they woke in each other arms, hands held, and the sweet blush on Reg’s face when he realized how close they truly were seemed so long ago...

He sighed deeply. He had been watching Reg rush around the room looking for all the belongings brought with him for over an hour. Only he could pretty much explode a suitcase in a room he only spent two days in. All that was left to find was his lucky sock. Reg was on his hands and knees looking under the clothes chest: the very last place it could it be apparently.

“It can’t just have disappeared! It’s my lucky sock for a reason!”

Bernie snorted. He couldn’t quite help it. The situation was as ridiculous as could be expected with Elton involved. Especially so when he finally found the twice be damned sock behind his old bookcase and banged his head in his triumph.

Bernie got to his feet and helped close the overflowing suitcase. “How did you get accumulate so much stuff, mate?,” he asked, breathing heavier than he would likely admit. “Didn’t you get on the plane with only my clothes on?”

Reg only shrugged. “I got some things while you were in the hospital the first time. Ray got annoyed with me pacing his office while he was trying to get work done and you didn’t answer the phone. Then I got bored and took Nan out shopping yesterday. She had a grand time. She barely leaves the flat now a days. Her bones not quite what they used to be, she says. Mum was right annoyed I didn’t bring her, though. I think she wanted her picture in the paper or something.”

Bernie could imagine.

He looked at his watch, and sat back down on the bed. They still had 15 minutes before their car to Ray’s would show up. He patted the bed, inviting Elton to sit beside him. He for one did not wish to spend unnecessary time with Sheila.

Bernie traced Elton’s bruised face with his fingertips. He ignored the trembling in his own muscles and the way Reg leaned into his touch. _Friends, best friends, brothers,_ he repeated to himself again. 

“Say, I’ve been wondering... At the office, when you spoke to John alone? What got him so ticked?”

Elton pushed away like he was burned, and Bernie couldn’t help flinching. “I told him that he and I were through, and he was fired and… some other things. I don’t want to talk anymore of it, Bern. Don’t make me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Elton.”

Bernie took his anger-flushed face and fisted hands. He knew there was more to it then that. Ordinarily he would push, but he didn’t. Not this time. He seemed to already have been toeing the invisible line lately. There was no need to cross it completely. The look on Reg’s face showed it was closer than he thought.

“How long did we live here, mate?,” Bernie asked to change the subject. 

He had been looking around the small room, taking in the detail more clearly now that Reg wasn’t throwing his belongings everywhere. Even the smallest bedroom at his ranch was double this size, and maybe Reg’s smallest closet would be bigger. One of the major differences between America and London was the size of… everything. He did not quite grasp it till now.

“Too long, Bernie, darling. Much too long.”

Elton put his head on Bernie’s shoulder again. He took a shuddering breath. “Life kind of sucks right now, Bern. It sucks… well, _feeling_ things again. But I’m glad you’re here. So glad I called you. Just so so glad.”

Bernie put his arm around Elton, kissing the top of his head, and nodded. He was glad as well.

“The car should be here by now, you reckon?,” Elton asked, getting to his feet. He hoisted the suitcase in his hand and left without further word. 

Bernie shook his head, slowly getting to his feet. _Typical… Too much emotion shown, so time to run._ He refused to admit how much alike they were in that respect, even to himself. _As Ray said, a right pair indeed…_

_*******************************_

Bernie glared at the phone like it was the devil incarnate. He knew he needed to call Alexandra. When he called Allbright to check in on the horses and chickens, he said Alexandra was back and worrying herself sick over his disappearance. He had picked up a calling card just for this purpose, unknowing how short (or long) the conversation would be. 

He felt Ray rolling his eyes at his behaviour from across the kitchen. Reg was at a photoshoot for the release of their new album. Ray had stayed behind for support. It was the perfect time, what with Reg bloody attached to Bernie’s side almost every waking (and sleeping) moment.

Bernie scrubbed his face with his hands. As wonderful as it felt wonderful having both arms mobile again, nothing could make him bring enjoyment in this moment. “Couldn’t pour me a drink, now, couldya mate?,” Bernie asked.

“Aye, and have you sloshed proper before the conversation even begins? I think not, mate,” Ray returned, pushing a glass of water at him. Bernie turned his glare to the water now. “You know what the doctor says, mate. You can’t keep looking at the booze to make things easier.” 

He sat across the kitchen island from Bernie, his favorite gentle smile on his face. He had gotten very good at dealing with them both the past few weeks, in every mood, if he did say so himself. They both ensured he knew how appreciated he was also, and Bernie was there to speak with him when he needed. Elton tried, god bless him, the darling man. He was much more good for a laugh in trying times than a confidant. 

He had forgotten over the years how wonderful having real friends could be. In his line of work, sharks were more likely to emerge than any true friendship.

“Yeah… yeah, I know. I don’t think I can actually do this, mate.”

“You want me to dial?”

“If y’would, yeah, mate. My hands are shaking horrible.”

Ray picked up the receiver and dialed for him. He handed him the phone, a reassuring smile on his face, and held out his hand. Bernie grasped Ray’s with his own sweaty one. Bernie grimaced slightly, feeling quite embarrassed to be sweating like a schoolboy. 

As much as Bernie refused to admit it, he was just as desperate for contact as Elton. Ray would never be what either of them truly needed, but he watched the two-step they danced around each other daily. He knew soon they would come together. It was only a matter of time.

“Umm… Alexandra... Hi. It’s me… Bernie.”

It was silent on the other side of the line for long moments. Bernie almost disconnected the call, losing his nerve quickly. What was he thinking calling her now? Stupid...

“ _Where the fuck are you, Bernie? It’s been weeks since I heard from you!”_

“I’m… Well, I’m in London. Staying with an old friend.”

_“With him, aren’t you?”_

Bernie shut his eyes. The disgust in her voice hurt more than he cared to admit. “Yes. Reg needed to get away, and I didn’t know where else to take him. We’ve been...”

 _“Why is it up to you to take him anywhere, Bernie? You are not some savior for the broken, you know!”_ He heard something shatter, glass, and wondered what was lost. _“I have tried to be patient with you. My stupid, closet fag of a husband. I helped you get clean. I helped you pick out this house, so you could live your dream of being a damn cowboy. I left my family behind in New York, all because you said you needed what I could give you. Someone you could be yourself with, who knew you were a stupid poof, and didn’t really care. Well, I did fucking care, Bernie! And I still do. You will have disgraced your name, and mine with it when this gets out! I even got pregnant the last time you got it up, so you could have your own damn family, have the press stop hounding you, and finally leave that asshole and that life behind forever…”_

He gasped, feeling like he was kicked in the gut. “Wait, what? Alex, you, you’re pregnant?” He unclasped his hand from Ray’s with a silent apology. He hadn’t meant to squeeze so tight.

_“Yes, 11 weeks now.”_

“I… I didn’t know.”

“ _Of course you didn’t, asshole. You are galavanting around with HIM, like you promised me you would never do again. That you were fucking over him, and only in love with me. I was such an idiot. The pain you endured has nothing on the pain you have brought me. I hope it makes you happy. Have a nice life, Bernie Taupin. I’m through.”_

He could almost see the smirk on her face as she continued, though. “ _And do be_ _careful. I’m sure the press will have a field day when they learn you left your wife and unborn child for your employer. Maybe I’ll help it along, save my own face. Gossip is wondrous, isn't it? Good day.”_

And then there was only a dial tone.

And then the phone slipped out of his grasp. 

He put his head in his hands and sobbed for the first time since that first day, here in this very flat. She would keep her promise. He could guarantee it. They were ruined.

_*********************_

Ray was silent. He had not expected the conversation to go that way. _Though I should have… Christ, I should have..._ He picked up the phone, putting it back on the cradle gently. It was damaged from the fall, but he could not bring himself to care. Not when his best friend was crying so. He would have to buy another at some point. He put his hand on Bernie’s shoulder, squeezed, then poured him the bloody drink. Because really, what else could he do?

“We’ll work through this.”

Bernie scoffed, downing his tumbler in moments. “Another?”

Ray poured it without a second thought. “You should sit down Elton and explain before… Before he hears from other avenues...”

“Sure.”

“You know how… Oh! Right. Good. That’s good. I was expecting the same bloody argument we’ve had for years now,” Ray said, pouring him another drink because _really, how much could one more hurt?_

“Well, don’t have much of a bloody choice now, do I?,” Bernie grumbled, tossing it back gladly. “I’ll cook tonight. I need something to take my fucking mind off things.”

He pushed his chair back under the ledge, ignoring Ray’s raised eyebrow. “Yes, you can trust me with the fucking knives. Go away, Ray. I want to be alone for now.”

And bless that man, he bloody did.

  



	12. Solace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Very dark chapter ahead... Trigger warning. I have 3 updates for today, as nothing seemed to fit together as one full chapter. Sorry everyone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a short update, but I have three chapters to post today. Nothing seemed to fit together as one chapter

“It’s going to be different this time...”

“How?”

“It just is.”

“But HOW, Reggie? You can’t truly...”

“DON’T CALL ME THAT!”

Bernie flinched, feeling hot tears pool in his eyes. They seemed to be having the same argument for hours now. The dinner Bernie spent hours preparing had lay forgotten when Reg came back with his news. Just like how Elton had ‘forgotten’ to mention he had posted John’s bail that day, and ensure no charges stuck. And he had also ‘forgotten’ to mention he and John met daily at cafes and pubs and the like. 

But now, if only because both he and Ray were home this evening instead of at Bernie’s AA meeting like usual, he HAD to mention he was leaving on the next flight back to the States, with John, and back to his sold out shows. Back to his excess, and early death.

He knew he should say something about his day. He should say something about Alexandra, and the baby, and her plan to ruin them both, but he didn't. _Can't_ , he thought.

Bernie got to his feet. “Well, it’s your life, Reg. You aren’t a child and I am not your minder, as you like to remind me. Just know that the next time you call, I may or may not be there to help pick up the pieces.”

Bernie slammed the bedroom door. He slipped past Ray when he tried to corner him, and out the front door. He vaguely heard Ray yelling obscenities at Reg, but found he didn’t much care. He just needed to be alone.

He walked into the alley beside Ray's complex. He knelt on the cobblestones, feeling his sobs wrench from his chest. He rolled up his sleeve. He was a failure. He had failed Alexandra, causing her nothing but heartbreak due to his very nature. He failed Reg  _ again _ for what might just be the very last time because he just would never measure up to anything Reg might fancy. He had nothing left to live for. 

He sought solace, and found it within his switchblade. The rain hell heavily upon him, washing away the blood from his arm quickly. Too quickly. He cut again and again, needing to see his blood. The rain kept a steady wash of the blood away, but not the pain. He cut until he felt blissfully empty. Not quite, but almost, absolved. 

He closed his eyes, welcoming darkness, and hoped to never wake again.


	13. Hard to say you're sorry

He heard the sound of the all-too-familiar-as-of-late machines before he opened his eyes. He wondered who had found him, why someone had wanted him saved. He wanted to feel angry that he was awake ( _ not dead. God…) _ , but he was just too weary. Finding his hands unable to reach his face no matter how much of his strength he used, he opened his eyes. They were bound to the side of the gurney, just how Elton’s had been after putting his head in the oven all those years ago.

The sun had streamed through the curtainless window, seemingly mocking him with such beauty. He turned as far away as he could, (which really wasn’t far… bound arms and all.) 

He saw Ray slumped in one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs, asleep, an opened magazine on his lap. He scanned the room, knowing before he did so that Reg would not be there. He had no reason to be, of course. Not after their fight. 

He couldn’t help but wonder if Reggie had even known, or if he just left with John without a care for him. That seemed more likely the more he thought about the pair.

But the thought made his chest hurt.

Bernie closed his eyes again before the tears got the better of him. 

********************

When he woke again it was dark. Ray still sat beside the bed, but this time had taken Bernie’s table. He had notebooks spread upon it, filled with his tiny writing, and different writing utensils in a standard hospital cup. He was working under the light of a torch, as not to disturb him. Bernie wondered how long he had been here, and why he was choosing to work here when he should be at his office.

“We have got to stop meeting like this.”

Bernie smiled as Ray, always in control Ray, jumped, throwing the torchlight in the air. “Ugh, Bernie! Warn a guy next time, why dontcha? I’ll end up in a bed beside ya if ya keep it up.”

Bernie croaked a laugh, accepting the offered straw for water. He took long gulps. His throat felt like a desert. “Why am I all tied up, Ray?”

Ray only shook his head and buzzed the nurse’s station alert them he had finally awakened. Ray fell back in his chair with a sigh. He took off his glasses and ran his fingers through his lank, messy hair. Bernie recognized all the signs of a man holding back an angry tirade.

It was only then that Bernie saw just how distraught his friend looked. Dark circles surrounded his normally bright eyes. His pale skin seemed almost pulled taut across his cheeks. His hair fell in dirty clumps, rather than the featherlight waves he was used to. Bernie tilted his head, unable to comprehend the situation.

“2 weeks, mate. It’s been 2 bloody weeks. I didn’t think you were ever going to wake up, you fucking tosser! I haven’t left for more than an hour at a time since I found you.”

Bernie was saved from responding by the arrival of the nurse. She bustled about his bed, checking his vitals and giving him pills. He did not follow a word she said, his mind on Ray. Ray had found him, then. He should be angry at Ray, then. When he saw Ray, though, really saw him, he realized he didn’t think ANYONE would be affected by his choice. He seemed to have fucked up yet again.

After the nurse (you can call me, Ivette, sugar) promised a doctor would be in shortly for an evaluation, and the door had shut, Bernie looked at Ray again. He opened his mouth to speak.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?,” Bernie asked, honestly bewildered.

“Don’t apologize. You won’t mean it.”

“You’re right, o’course. I’m rather heated I was found in the first place.” 

Ray only nodded. He put his glasses back on his face, and looked down at his notebooks. “I have this proposal due tomorrow for a new up and comer, as much as I’d rather keep talking. You remember how hard Dick is to impress personally, I reckon. You rest. You have a hard road to come.”

“And Reggie?”

“Fuck Elton, Bernie! Don’t worry about him. He sure as hell isn’t worrying about you right now, is he?”

Truth as it may be, it harder than it should have. Bernie shut his eyes.  _ Just one fuck up after another, Bernie Taupin. That’s all you are and will amount to be. _


	14. Hope is gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Elton's been up to

Another sold out show. Another epic finale. Another line or six. Another handle of gin. Another party that turned into an orgy after too many substances. That was his life every fucking day.

Elton sat in his dressing room catching his breath. He had shimmied into his new costume, a skintight bejeweled wonder that both amazed and horrified him. He tried to style what was left of his hair, and found it lacking. He knew that a hat was made for this ensemble, but he had hoped as he had every night for years to not to have to wear it. Bernie always hated his costumes, and found the hats the most ridiculous. 

He missed Bernie so much.

He had just snorted a line of coke when he heard the door open without so much of a knock. He jumped to his feet. Anything else would be deemed disrespectful and earn (at the very least) a smack across the face. After spending so much time covering his other bruises with makeup, the prospect of more ruined him.

John was here to inspect him as he did before every show. He was there to ensure he was wearing what was picked out for the night, the correct glasses were on his face, and that he was not fucked up enough to ruin them, like he almost did in Italy two months prior.

Delaying the show brought upon punishment Elton really REALLY liked to avoid.

Deemed acceptable, except for the bit of flab that seemed to not disappear no matter how many meals he cut, he was reminded that he was allowing himself to go to seed. He was aging everyday, and if he refused to do something he would become a has been before he turned 40. He was a disgusting waste and lucky to even still be in John’s company. And of course the normal recourse if his show that night was less than acceptable.

Elton could recite John’s words by heart now, no matter how much they hurt.

But then John’s lips were on his, holding him close, rocking his hips steadily into his. He moaned into John’s mouth. He loved this part of the night. A promise for more after the show, if he just did his job. 

And Elton smiled. Yes, he would do well he had promised. 

Laying on the hotel floor later that night, he wondered why he had thought this time it would be different. He curled in the fetal position, knowing he was quite wretched really, his whole body bruised and lashed and aching.

_ I need to burn those shoes… _

  
  



	15. late night visitor

Ray sat up slowly, hearing the insistent knock on his front door. He looked at his bedside clock and cursed. 3 am.  _ Who the fuck comes calling at bloody 3 am _ , he thought as he sat up. He slowly stood, his head swimming splendidly. He had just left the pub 3 hours prior. 

He opened the drawer and gazed down at his glock. In his inebriated state he was more likely to bring harm upon himself with it then stop an intruder. He picked up his wooden baseball bat instead, hoping he had better aim with it then it seemed while he was only walking.

“I’m coming! I’m coming!,” he shouted, using the wall for support. He wished whoever it was would stop banging on the door. He did not want any of his neighbors to cause an unneeded scene, being awoke at such a horrible hour. He was glad it was Saturday morning at least if they were. Most of his neighbors already disliked him, there was no need to add to that.

He looked through the peephole and cursed again. He did not want to deal with this situation at all...

“What the bloody fuck, Elton!,” he hissed, opening the door. He grabbed him by the shirt collar and dragged him inside the flat. “It’s bloody 3 am, mate!”

“Yeah, I know, I know. So-sorry.”

Ray threw the baseball bat into the umbrella stand. He collapsed on his recliner, pinching the bridge of his nose. He did not want to deal with this. With him. Even he knew how drunk he was, he could never be drunk enough to deal with Elton after what happened.

“Well, sit down then. No need to stand, is there?,” he asked when he could finally control his anger. Elton sat on the edge of the couch, looking ready to flee if things got too real, in typical Elton fashion. 

Ray shrugged. “Sorry, mate. I’m drunk and thought I was going to get burgled.” He left out how difficult it was to NOT hit him with the bat, even when he recognized him.

Elton snorted. “I flew in last night. Was sitting in my hotel room trying to get the balls to come here. Bernie was bloody right… Again.”

“O’ course he was. Usually is, innit he?”

Elton took a steadying breath. “Where… Where is Bernie? He asleep?”

Ray leaned back in his recliner, closing his eyes. He felt a headache coming that had nothing to do with the alcohol. “Bernie is not here. He… He tried and came very close to committing suicide when you left. I was lucky to have found him in time. He’s getting help.”

Elton felt his stomach drop. “Where…,” he asked, his voice nothing more than a whisper. 

Ray shook his head and only said “No.”

“No?,” Elton repeated, furrowing his brow. No one really said no to him anymore. 

“No, Elton. You will not ruin this for him. If you show up, he’ll start thinking only of you again, and how to make you better, when obviously that is not what you actually want, when he really needs help.”

“I didn’t know…”

Ray snorted. “Of course you didn’t, you tosser. You have always been good at ignoring most of what happens around you. I’m going back to bed.”

“Okay, I’ll just…”

“Sleep in my guest room, Elton. There is no reason to trek back to the hotel this late. We’ll talk more when I’m sober.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

Ray stumbled back to his bedroom, locking the door. He collapsed on his bed and shut his eyes, forcibly pushing all thoughts from his mind. He needed to sleep off this alcohol more than he had thought when he had first went to bed. There would be a lot to deal with the next day. He had promised Bernie that if Elton had come by he would help him, since Bernie was unavailable for some time. He did not plan to break that promise. Thankfully he was asleep within moments of his head hitting his pillow.

  
  



	16. Still Standing

Ray sat at his kitchen island, papers strewn all over. He knew he should go to his office. He didn’t spend nearly enough time there as of late, as Dick liked to remind him on their daily conference calls. He had threatened to begin to dock his pay since he had to make his own tea every day lately or some bollocks. Ray had wanted to remind him he barely paid him enough for all he did as it was, but luckily he was able to keep his mouth shut. He liked his job, and the money, enough to refrain.

He rubbed his face with his hand, and glared in the direction of his guest bedroom. He was quite cross at his current situation. Elton had spent most of the weekend sleeping off the latest binge that brought him there. Each time he came close to throwing him out and letting him fend for himself, _like someone really ought to do surely_... Bernie’s face flitted across his eyes, drawn and haggard at the hospital, begging him to help his best friend if he came calling. Bernie had only agreed to accept help for himself if he promised. 

Ray had not expected Elton to show up at his door when he had agreed, though.

The door opened and shut softly. He heard Elton’s soft step in the hallway, and his deepening breath’s when he saw Ray in the kitchen. Well, where else would he be? He couldn’t quite leave the _other_ suicidal man alone in his apartment, surely? 

Ray shook his head, trying to hide his irritation. Dealing with Elton since he limped back into his life that day was like dealing with an injured animal.

“Good afternoon, Elton,” Ray said, pasting a smile that he hoped at least looked convincing on his face. “Bangers and mash ready for you in the microwave. You can take it in the parlor, I’ve made a working mess here.”

“Thanks, mate, but I’m good,” Elton said quietly. “I just wanted to say I’ll… I’ll be leaving soon.”

“Where?”

“Pardon?”

Ray threw his pencil down upon his notebook. It wasn’t quite as satisfying as he thought it would be. “Where will you be leaving to?”

“Does it matter, really?”

“No, I suppose it really doesn’t,” Ray agreed.

“Alright then. Thanks for your help.”

Ray shrugged, picking up his pencil. “Don’t need your thanks, really. I did it for Bernie.”

  
Elton flinched. “Right. Well. There’s no one better o’ course. Tell him I love him when you see him next?"

"Yeah, alright," Ray said, focusing back on his work.

"See you...”

"Yep..."

And when Ray flipped through the local tele stations later that week and saw Elton had FINALLY checked into rehab, he smiled. He didn’t REALLY believe he had much to do with it, but was proud nonetheless. At least he knew Elton would live just a bit longer than before, and maybe no more heart attacks in his thirties. 

_I have to see Bernie and let him know. He will be right_ _chuffed,_ Ray thought, turning off the television. He found himself humming an upbeat tune as he locked up. _I'm still standing... Bernie, you saw the future for you both with this song._


	17. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who journeyed with me. I really enjoyed writing this, and love that other's have enjoyed it too! I will be spending time now reworking and adding to my other story now.

Bernie smiled as he watched little Caroline chase her Uncle Ray in the backyard, her chubby toddler legs growing more assured as each day passed. Ray was making exaggerated movements, bringing such joy to 2 year old Bernie felt his own heart would burst. When Ray fell to the ground, Caroline fell upon his chest with a giggle. She had her thumb in her mouth and a look of contentment on her face. She would go down for her afternoon nap with no trouble it seemed.

He gazed over at Reggie, and saw the look of astonishment that graced his face daily. He knew his boyfriend still could not fathom that this was his life. He reached over and took his hand in his own, bringing it to his lips with a smile. 

The road had not been easy. Alexandra had done as she promised, painting a large X on Bernie’s face. He was no longer welcome in most of his circles. Homophobia still was rampant even within the entertainment industry at the present time. 

When he was released from the hospital, he journeyed home to his ranch, wanting to make amends. Not for his career, but for his life. A month later Alexandra had gifted him his beautiful daughter, but died mere hours after giving birth. He mourned the life they could have had together, if he was what society deemed acceptable, but could not bring himself to mourn her life itself.

Reg had shown up not long after her death was announced, at 3 am of course. Bernie, who had not slept in what might have been days, opened the door with his infant daughter bawling in his arms. He might have been crying himself if he brought himself to be honest.

Reggie had taken one look at him before entering the house with an air that had never been there before. He seemed assured, at ease in his own skin. He had arranged Caroline in his own arms, and gently tucked Bernie in his bed. He kissed him on the forehead and told him to rest. He would take care of the baby, and Bernie himself, as long as was needed.

He had never left. 

John was in prison and would be for a long while, Elton had finally told Bernie weeks after he moved in. Tax evasion, along with the abuse he had put Reggie through. He apparently had had a rough go of it in the pen. Bernie still said it couldn’t have happened to better person.

Slowly their friendship changed. They were no longer the broken men who ran away to London. They were no longer the young kids struggling to receive any kind words. They had their big break, in music and in their souls. They had both healed in their own time.

They had both received help with their addictions, had faced their demons, and came to terms with each of their pasts. They had come to terms with themselves, and were more grateful for each other than ever.

They could no longer hide their affections. Their stolen kisses and soft touches soon turned to passionate love making. They fit together like pieces of the same puzzle, unlike any relationship or fling either had had before. 

They began to take trips into town together. To an outsider it might have seemed like just two friends out for dinner. To them though, they were dates. It helped cement their relationship, their normalcy as a couple. It helped heal their hearts just a bit more.

Ray was right chuffed when Bernie had called him one day, asking him to be Caroline’s godfather and telling him about Reggie. He had called Dick and quit that day. 

“He was a right prick on the best of days anyways, mate,” Ray had said when Bernie questioned him. Bernie could almost feel the cheer in his voice when he mentioned his nest-egg, and the need for sun.

He had packed and moved to California by the end of that week. He babysat often, his adoration of Caroline was unmatched by anyone. (Other than Bernie and Reg, of course.)

Retirement treated the three of them quite well, two of which never thought they would see this day.

Bernie leaned over and put his lips on Elton’s, channeling all his love and gratefulness into his kiss. The confounded look that graced his Reggie’s face was worth it. He was worth it.

They had made it. Together. 

  
  



End file.
